


empty

by charliecha



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Feeding, Hurt Choi San, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Platonic Cuddling, Sad with a Happy Ending, San is babie pls be nice to him, Soft Choi San, Soft Jung Wooyoung, Wooyoung is the bestest friend where can i find one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-12 19:48:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28641009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charliecha/pseuds/charliecha
Summary: truth is, san is feeling a way he can't even describe with words, and he still doesn't understand the reason behind it.he doesn't feel sad, or hurt, he doesn't feel angry nor happy, doesn't really have any reason to; absolutely nothing, just empty, miserable.his body feels like a dead weight, sprawled on his newly washed sheets, cold prickling around his bones and under his skin.and still, he can't bring himself to do anything about it.____________________where san is having a rather hard time, and wooyoung is there to comfort him
Relationships: Choi San/Jung Wooyoung
Comments: 8
Kudos: 66





	empty

**Author's Note:**

> this is almost completely self indulgent content  
> I wasn't feeling okay, went "imagine if I had someone to take care of me right now", wrote about it and BOOM there you have it some soft platonic woosan
> 
> mainly inspired by the song "suffocate" by hayd
> 
> I have nothing else to say except that san is a babie and yes I had the courage to write "platonic" and "woosan" in the same sentence, what are you gonna do, fight me?
> 
> also, please dont mind the little mistakes, english is not my first language and I had a bit of a hard time writing this, I hope it came out okay

he really can't bring himself to think of something, anything that would cheer him up right now.  
his body is like a dead weight, sprawled on his newly washed sheets, back pressed against the hard wood of the headboard, cold prickling around his bones and under his skin.

he doesn't hear any sounds in the almost empty room, aside from the needle of the clock on the wall ticking the seconds away at a steady pace, and the echoed clashing of plates and pots from the other side of the apartment, where someone is busy preparing a meal - probably wooyoung, with seonghwa looking in silence from over his shoulder and yeosang tiptoeing around them, stealing a few pieces of food here and there like usual.

not even the stubborn grumbling of his stomach, at the thought of the delicious dishes his friend always prepares for them, can bring san to move from his half sitting position.  
with his arms laid on his chest, his limbs feel heavy, so heavy - he's pretty sure he wouldn't be able to get up even if the house were to burn down in flames.  
his lungs feel hollow, making it hard to breath, and his lazy eyelids can't even manage to remain fully open as he stares at the ceiling over his head.

his teeth are busy torturing his lower lip, unconsciously eating at the skin without mercy; he can taste the hint of blood on his tongue, but he doesn't feel the pain, it doesn't bother him one bit.  
his throat is dry, an ache that scratches its walls at every swallow he takes;  
when was the last time he drank or ate something? he can't remember.  
was it breakfast? he doesn't recall getting out of the room at all since he woke up that morning.  
what he does recall is one of his friends - was it yeosang? - coming into his room at some point, to ask if he wanted to grab something to eat; he simply didn't respond, and given the absence of both light and noises aside from the shallow but steady breaths from the boy, they probably thought he was sleeping, and figured it would be best to let him rest.

truth is, he feels a way he can't even describe with words, and he still doesn't understand the reason behind it.  
he doesn't feel sad right, or hurt, he doesn't feel angry nor happy, doesn't really have any reason to; absolutely nothing, just empty, miserable.

he spent a good ten minutes scrolling through the many apps of his phone looking for distractions, but ended up throwing it to the other side of the bed with a loud sigh.  
he did try to sleep as well at some point, forced his eyes close to hopefully keep his thoughts away, but he can't even get his head around how many hours he spent like this by now, staring at the colourless void, mind messy with doubts, worries, questions and memories of any kind.

that one time when he was still a kid, happily running around in the school's football field with some of his friends one moment, and the next one he was on the ground, holding his aching ankle, crying in pain; that resulted in him having to put a cast on it for a couple of weeks or so, and it wasn't that bad, he soon found out: all of his friend left colorful doodles on it, and he took a break from football, which he discovered wasn't much of his liking after all, and ended up pursuing ballet not too long after.

that reminds him, what about that dog he used to pet every day on his way to his dance classes?  
it's been years now, but he wasn't that old back then; would he still be alive now?

not that he was ever a dog person; in fact, he used to have a cat some years prior.  
oh how lovely she was, always greeting him when he got back home, curling in his lap whenever he sat in the living room to watch some tv, demanding cuddles.  
it's a bummer he couldn't keep her after he and his boyfriend broke up.

"i wish i could stay, but i need some space and you're in the way", those were the last words he had told san, on the last night they spent together; right now he doesn't feel as disgusted by himself as he usually does when he thinks back at how he begged him not to leave him.  
he's always had a bad time dealing with his fear of abandonment, even when he was still a kid, but nothing can compare to what one person feels when their loved one throws them to the side, all alone, incapable of fixing themself up on their own - that's the worst part of it all.

san feels tears stinging his eyes, but he still can't cry, no matter how much he tries or feels the need to; why would he, anyway? it would be dumb to cry about something that happened so many years ago, wouldn't it?  
despite everything, he finds himself wondering how the old cat is doing more often than what he would like to admit.

his messy train of thoughts gets violently interrupted by a muffled knock on the door.  
it doesn't go unnoticed by san's ears, but he fails to find the energy necessary to bring out his voice, getting to the conclusion that they will go away, eventually, when they won't receive any response.

"sani? are you awake?"

wooyoung;  
now san knows for sure the boy won't leave him alone until he gets a proper answer.  
as san predicted, he hears another soft knock, just a tiny bit louder this time, but still, he feels so tired just at the thought of opening his lips to make out a simple word, let alone to tell the other he's been staring at nothing for who knows how many hours now.

"i'm coming in"

san hears the sound of the doorknob twisting, followed by the slow squeaking of the door.  
a streak of light from the hallway intrudes in the pitch dark room, making san flinch at the sudden exposure and turn his head to the side, eyes shut.

"were you sleeping?", wooyoung's voice is low, careful not to startle the other in case he was, in fact, sleeping, one hand still gripping at the handle.  
san's eyes reopen slowly, trying to adjust to the new light in the room.

"wasn't", san's tone doesn't come out as firm as he'd wished, trembling in the middle of the simple, single word.

"hey, are you okay?" he asks, worry painting his voice.

is he okay? san himself isn't too sure of that.  
he's fine, he's not sad or hurt in any particular way, but he doesn't think he's in the place to tell him that he is doing fine, because he's not, it doesn't feel right.

"i.. i don't know", he replies unsure.

the younger steps inside, letting the door close behind him and letting darkness make its way inside again, the faint shuffling of his feet on the wooden pavement is the only thing audible as he gets closer to the desk to light up the little reading lamp placed on top of it, to help him make out his surroundings - all of this under san's attentive gaze, who by now had gotten used to the darkness.

wooyoung then turns to look at the older and sits on the edge of the bed, that sinks slightly to the side under his weight.  
he reaches one hand up to delicately place his palm against the other's forehead, and from then, it's a chain of questions that gets thrown at the older.

"are you feeling sick?"

here's the first one, the most obvious one.  
of course he would ask that, after all it's winter season, it wouldn't be a surprise if he suddenly came back home with a burning fever; but this is not the case, he always made sure to dress warmly enough and there's no trace of the slightest cold in his organism.

"no"

"are you hurting anywhere?"

the second one, this too, pretty obvious, if we consider the amount of effort san puts in his dance routines almost everyday.  
he takes a few seconds to consume a thought, but aside from the stinging weight in his chest, he's completely fine.

"no"

wooyoung's tone is soft, eyes never leaving the older's own, which on the contrary are glued to his hands resting on his lap.

"did something happen?"

the third question, this is usually the one people don't get to ask.  
did anything happen? not that san can think of.  
yes, dance practices had been particularly hard these last few weeks, and he had to study for a very important exam - which went better than he expected - but nothing really happened for him to be reduced in this state.

"nothing that should matter"

the room fills with silence again as wooyoung decides on what to do next, and san wonders why the the younger boy is still standing there, and not leaving like everyone does, because if he's not hurting, or sad, or sick, he should be fine, right?  
there should be nothing left for him to do, after checking on him.

san observers the other as he looks around the room, and then back to the older boy sat next to him, until he notices that said boy is still wrapped in the clothes he wore the day before; he probably went to bed without putting on his pyjama first, and didn't bother to change the morning after, since he had the day off, all for himself.  
so wooyoung sets this as his next priority.

"would you like to take a shower?" he asks, pointing towards the bathroom door with his head.

it's not like he didn't think about it, he did, but he brushed the idea off as soon as it popped up in his mind.

"i don't- don't really feel like getting up, at all"

"alright, then i'll find you some warmer and more comfortable clothes to wear and i'll help you change, is that better?"

why? why is he still here?  
and why does he have that look on his face? as if he understood exactly what is wrong with san at the moment.  
the younger nods anyway, looking down at his wrinkled jeans, twisting uncomfortably around his legs.

wooyoung gets up and walks towards san's wardrobe to pick a random pair of sweatpants, but as soon as his hand touches the fabric of a large, purple sweater, he is stopped by the other's voice.

"wait- could i.. could you give me one of yours instead?", he asks, voice little, hesitant, looking at him from the other side of the room with tired and pleading eyes.  
wooyoung looks back at him and then down at himself, grabbing at the hem of his hoodie.

"is the one i'm wearing right now alright?"

"yeah, yeah it's fine", confirms san, not so sure himself as to why his wish to swim in the other's warmth and scent is bringing him so much comfort, but wooyoung looks completely fine with his request, quickly changing into one of san's hoodies - the one he initially chose for the other boy - before walking back to the bed and sitting down again, with his own sweater in hand.

he grabs at the hem of san's shirt, pulling it up slowly and then over his head, trying to divert his eyes from looking at the other's naked chest.  
the older doesn't even get the time to shiver at the contact with the cold air because wooyoung is already guiding his arms through the sleeves of his warm sweater, before doing the same with his head, making sure he's all covered up.

"do you need help with the pants as well?", his tone is not teasing, as you would expect from a situation like this - and a flirty personality like wooyoung's - but rather comforting, understanding, and san is starting to feel very grateful for it, his cheeks painting with the lightest hint of pink dust.

"n- no, i- i can do that by myself.." replies san, and wooyoung smiles, not because of the reaction itself, but because it's the first shade of emotion the other showed ever since he came into the room.

"alright. i made dinner, but i suppose you're not in the mood for that, am i right?" he tells him, handing him the pair of sweatpants. 

"no, not really"

"well, i'm sorry, but you have to eat something at least. i'll go grab a fruit while you finish changing, okay?"

the older hums in response, and wooyoung gets up, giving one last pat on his head and letting him know he'll be right back, hearing the faint shuffling of clothes and sheets behind him as he closes the door.

when he enters the kitchen, the others are engaged in a lively conversation at the table, getting distracted by the news on the tv from time to time, so only a couple of his friends notice him as he walks past them, sending him a questioning look to which he replies with a simple "i'm taking care of him", not giving too many details, heading over to the fridge to grab a few different fruits he knows the other will like.

when wooyoung enters san's room again, he doesn't miss the way san, as soon as he sees the door cracking open, pushes a pillow to the side, which he was probably holding tight to his chest only seconds before - but he doesn't mention it.

he's holding a cup in one hand - the little plastic handle of what san guesses would be a fork, sticking out - and a glass full of water in the other.  
wooyoung settles back in his place on the bed,   
observing san patiently as he lifts himself up a little, putting pressure on his weak arms, to sit in a more comfortable position.

"can you drink this for me? you don't have to finish all of it, i'll just leave it here for later", he points out, leaning closer to the older, guiding the glass to his lips.  
san hums in response, holding the glass with his own hands - which he wishes wouldn't be as shaky as they actually are - over the other's, taking a few small sips before detaching from it to catch his breath, and repeating the action a second time.  
san didn't think water could taste this good, but right now, with his throat as dry as a desert, painful, it's the best thing he could wish for.

wooyoung wipes the older's chin with the sleeve of his - san's - hoodie, where a single drop of water had slipped from his lips while he was drinking, and he smiles fondly at him, moving the palm to rest on san's cheek and give a quick, delicate stroke with his thumb; san can only do as much as return a timid smile at the gesture, hoping it would convey how grateful he is for this kind of attention, but it's more than enough for wooyoung.

after putting the now empty glass on the nightstand next to him, wooyoung leans closer once more, offering san the colorful cup containing the sliced fruits.  
san eyes the little fork now close to his mouth, eyes flying to the other's, not even trying to hide the sickened expression on his face as the smell invades his senses and piles up with his already unpleasant nausea.

"the boys told me you skipped lunch as well, so i'm not going anywhere until you finish all of this" commands wooyoung, not leaving any room for objections, "i put sugar in it, just how you like it; i promise it won't be that bad"

san lowers his head slightly in surrender, because he knows all to well how stubborn wooyoung can be - and, also, he remembered the sugar - and he opens his mouth to let the younger feed him, one piece at a time, doing his best to alternate different types of fruits, watching closely as the other lazily chews on them, careful not to spill anything.

san feels his heart swell at the attention and affection the other is giving him, the amount of patience and care he's putting into every little detail, because he didn't miss how every piece is perfectly peeled, or how he remembered about his favourite cup, and he still can't figure out how he managed to find someone as caring and loving as the boy sat in front of him.

the process lasts some minutes - because apparently san's jaw wasn't too keen on cooperating, moving sluggishly to bite at the food - until even the last little piece of apple gets swallowed by the older, who earns himself a "good boy" whispered through wooyoung's warm smile, who then proceeds on placing the empty cup on the nightstand, right next to the glass.  
and when he turns around again, he doesn't expect to meet a pair of glossy eyes looking up at him.

"i.. i really feel like crying right now", with tears already welling up in his eyes and grazing his lashes, san informed the other - almost as if he had to ask for permission - who was quick to wrap him in the warmest of hugs.

"hey, it's okay, let it out. i got you"

and san doesn't let him repeat himself, bursting into tears immediately, holding tight on the other's hoodie, not caring about the tears wetting the fabric, his shoulders shaking at his loud sobs.  
he can't remember the last time he cried like this, and right now, he feels so relieved he doesn't have to do it alone, lost in the darkness of his lonely room.

meanwhile, wooyoung is busy whispering beautiful nothings in his ear, encouraging him, and running a hand up and down his back in the most comforting way possible, and it seems to work just fine, because after a while his sobs start to become less frequent, alternating with a sniffle from time to time, until his breathing goes back to normal, and he starts to speak.

"i'm sorry, i'm just, a bit overwhelmed, that's all", he says apologetically.

"don't apologise, it's fine. you'll be fine" reassures the younger, bringing one hand to wipe san's wet cheeks, gently.

"do you want me to leave you alone now?"

san pulls away abruptly, still gripping at the soft sweater like his life depends on it, eyes still shiny with tears

"n- no, please, don't go, don't leave me", his voice betrays him for the second time, but now he doesn't try to hide the tremble of his lower lip as he speaks.

"i won't, don't worry, i won't leave", he gives another caress to his face, making san lean into the touch.

"do you want to get under the covers? want to hold me?"

he knows about san's habit of hugging plushies or pillows or even people during the night, it's not like he ever kept it a secrets; still, san feels the littlest smile creep up his lips.

"if.. you don't mind?"

"of course I don't mind"

they exchange a brief smile and wooyoung scoots closer, laying down next to san, while the latter slides further down on the bed and doesn't waste a second before wrapping himself around the younger and hiding his face - flushed pink, by now - in the crook of his neck, taking in the familiar scent of the boy, mixed with his own from the sweater, sighing in relief when he feels wooyoung's arm snake around his back to hold him tighter, and the other hand reach up to delicately play with his hair.

"you know it's okay not to feel okay, sometimes; you're human too," begins wooyoung, breaking the silence, "you'll have to stop taking care of others and let us take care of you from time to time, promise me?"

"what did i do to deserve you?", san is simply thinking out loud, at this point, the kind of question that usually doesn't need to be answered, but the younger does it anyway.

"you deserve the whole world and more, you don't need to do anything else"

he can feel san smile against the skin of his neck, and he closes his eyes, content, glad that he could help his friend at least this much.

"try to sleep now, okay? you'll feel better. i'll still be here when you wake up, I promise"

the mixture of their heartbeats and steady breaths makes out the prettiest of lullabies, perfect for san to finally drift off to sleep, smile painted on his lips.  
the younger stays quiet after that, leaving a small peck on the crown of san's messy hair, the uncomfortable sting in his chest now only a memory in his head.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading until the end!!  
> I hope you liked it hehe  
> kudos and comments are highly appreciated, so please don't hesitate to let me know what you think!  
> also, if you thought "that's me, I'm san" while reading, you deserve only happiness and a hug I hope you're okay  
> goodbye babes have a wonderful day <3


End file.
